The Driving Lesson
by Jill2
Summary: Angel takes Buffy for a drive. WARNING: not Spike-friendly! Flames will be used to keep me warm during cold winter nights.
1. Default Chapter

First of all, hi, I'm back. waves enthusiastically*. And I come with an offering *g* - no, not like Greeks, it's not a Trojan horse or anything. I'm almost through with the first draft of this fic, so I dare sending out the first part.  
  
Hope you'll enjoy what I've done after such a long time. And yes, I've been reading through "Wild Days" the last couple of weeks and intend to continue it as soon as possible. Bear with me - okay. And thanks for being so patient with me.  
  
FIC: The Driving Lesson  
  
Author: Jill Disclaimer: nope, not mine, never will be; if I could I'd claim Gale though *g* Rating: R Pairing: B/A Category: Angst, Romance, Drama - all the good stuff Feedback: oh yes, please send it to Connemara.Scarlets@t-online.de Spoilers: none really, this is complete AU Dedication: to Ducks, Gem, Vatrixsta and Trammie. By reading through your fics the last weeks you made me see the beauty of B/A fiction again.  
  
My most humblest thanks go to my beta-readers, Jade, Kay and Kristen. You rock girls!!!  
  
I got the idea for this fic by - go figure - a Slash-story. It's called "Sleep While I Drive" by Jenn ( - the story is Clex (Smallville), just to warn you. If you are a fan of Clex - read it now. It's phenomenal.)  
  
Chapter 1 (of 4)  
  
"You're home."  
  
That's all he said when I came back from school. Because of a heat wave the teacher let us go early, so I wasn't quite sure how he could have known I'd be there just past noon. Of course, we're talking about the guy who always seemed to know what I was doing long before I did. It's more than a little disconcerting.  
  
He just stood there, legs crossed at his ankles, clad in black, black silk shirt, black leather pants, black boots, a small smirk lifting the right corner of his mouth. And he was watching me, in that special way of his that made me want to squirm.  
  
Of course, I wasn't squirming. No way I would give him the advantage to see me squirm. It was bad enough that I felt my face flush and that the redness was spreading to my neck and ears. Damn.  
  
"Uh - hi." And wasn't that vocal of me? "What are you doing here?"  
  
He took a drag off his cigarette, a very slooooow drag, then let it drop and deliberately stepped on it, glancing at the tip of his foot while he made a slow squeezing motion with it. He didn't look up when he said, "I was waiting for you."  
  
By that time my heart was fluttering and my stomach was flip-flopping. "Ah," was all I could manage.  
  
Oh boy.  
  
He finally looked up again and one of his dark brows drew up. "You look a little hot." And he was looking so damned cool himself, for a moment I wanted to slap him.  
  
"Yeah, you know how it is. Heat wave and all," I babbled, close to slapping myself now. Could I sound more idiotic? More like the teenager I unfortunately still am? And here was this hunky guy making my knees weak and my heart stutter .  
  
Oh boy.  
  
"So," he said slowly, leaning back against the door of his black Mustang, "you're done with school?"  
  
"For today, yeah." And soon forever. At least where high school was concerned. Of course, my parents expected me to go to college, as did my best friend. Months ago when the finals were just something far away on the horizon, she had started talking about what college we were going to attend. I wasn't really listening, I have to admit, but I had still listened enough to realize how serious the whole college-business was for her.  
  
Not that I could really think about college right now, because strong thighs clad in leather pants were getting all the attention I could muster. Boy, did the guy look good in them.  
  
I quickly blinked and did my best to veil my thoughts. "What about you?" What about you???? Did I actually ask that question? I wished the earth would open up and swallow me whole that very instant. I wasn't quite sure what the guy did, but just from looking at him I knew that he had to be out of school for some years.  
  
He chuckled slightly, "Wanna go for a ride?"  
  
Doing my best not to let my surprise show, I tilted my head, "Now?" Okay, something was going on here. He never asked me on a ride before. Sure, he showed up now and then, looking at me in that strange way that made me go all gooey inside, made me shiver with his voice like hot chocolate fudge, but then disappeared without ever revealing his identity.  
  
Fact was, I didn't even know his real name.  
  
He didn't reply to my question about going now. Instead he turned around, slipped into his car, propping one elbow on the side door and looked at me expectantly.  
  
It's really embarrassing that I have to admit I was inside of the car in less than a second, the cool breeze of the air-conditioning feeling incredible on my dampened skin, the soft surface of the leather feeling like a lover's touch. Not that I knew how that felt like, mind. And how embarrassing is that admission for an eighteen year old girl these days?  
  
I sighed before I could stop myself, then cleared my throat. "What's going on?"  
  
He shrugged and started the ignition, then pulled out of the driveway of our house and onto the street. We were about four blocks away from my house, when he spoke again. "You live with your Mom?"  
  
That surprised me. How did he know that? Why would he be interested? Okay, so I'm not that dense. The guy was obviously interested, but knowing about my Mom? "Uh . yeah."  
  
"What about your dad?"  
  
I shrugged, trying to keep calm. "He's in New York. Living with his current girlfriend." I still hadn't quite gotten over the fact that my parents were divorced, even though it's been four years since they dropped their little bombshell. But even more difficult to accept was the fact that both of them were moving on nicely. Dad with a number of girlfriends I had lost count of, and my mother . she'd been dating this guy on and off for the past two years, but the last three months it seemed to become more serious. He had even spent the night.  
  
And don't ask how much that one grossed me out! It's hard enough to think of your parents doing . it. But your mom with a man who's not your dad? Believe me, it multiplies the gross-factor to the unlimited. And she was smiling all the time, radiating all this good mood around herself . making me sick!  
  
"That's harsh."  
  
Oh, right. He was still here. Or rather I was still with him. Thinking about my parents is an easy distraction. "Oh, well," I downplayed, "you learn to live with it. What about yours?"  
  
"Mine?"  
  
"Parents. Your parents. Weren't we talking about them."  
  
"Oh." He flushed a little, the first time I had seen his calm demeanor slip, and it made me suck in a sharp breath. He had been in most of --- okay, in all --- of my dreams lately, the aloof hero, cool, strong, this human side made him a lot more . real. It was suddenly a lot easier to talk to him.  
  
"Yeah. So, what about them?"  
  
He shrugged. How well I knew that gesture. "My father and I . stopped talking to each other a while ago."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"Don't be. After that last shouting match it's probably better for everyone involved. As for my mother . she's never tried to go against my father's wishes in her life."  
  
"Not even for her son?" I wanted to bite my lips the moment the words were out.  
  
But surprisingly he didn't seem to mind. "No. Not even for me." With that the subject was obviously closed.  
  
I frowned at his profile for a moment - he has a really lovely profile by the way - then turned back to look out the front window only to see that we were close to the city limits already. "Where are we going?"  
  
"Where do you want us to go?"  
  
Huh? "I thought you were taking me somewhere." Yes, I sounded a little dumbfounded, but . wouldn't you?  
  
"I am. I'm just not sure where."  
  
Uh-huh. "So you . don't have, like, a plan?"  
  
"Nu-huh."  
  
"That's . ah . interesting."  
  
A grin flashed over his face making it . Geez, maybe I was developing a tonsillitis or something, because my throat was incredibly tight all of a sudden. Was it even allowed for a guy to look that good?  
  
"Interesting, yeah," he agreed.  
  
"Oh . I . ah . really need to call my mom. She doesn't even know where I am."  
  
"Go ahead." He pulled a tiny cell phone from his pocket and handed it to me, our finger tips brushing in the process. The touch sent shivers right down my spine.  
  
Fumbling with the buttons and trying to hide my reaction to us touching at the same time, I dialed the number of my mother's gallery and waited. She opened it when we moved here, right after my parents finalized their divorce, and it turned out to be a big success.  
  
"Summers?"  
  
"Hey mom," I chirped, trying to sound natural and relaxed while being anything but. "It's me."  
  
"Buffy. Is something wrong?"  
  
I frowned. Why did she always expect something was wrong when I called. "No. Everything's fine. I just wanted to tell you that I'll be . out for a while."  
  
"What about school?"  
  
She sounded worried. And yes, there had been a time when she had reason to. Right after I found out my parents were going to get a divorce, I got a little crazy and . did some stupid things. In the end they got me expelled from my old school. But I'm past that, and she sure as hell should know that. "School is over. They let us go early because of the heat wave."  
  
"Oh. I see. But honey . what about Dawnie?"  
  
"What about her?" I didn't try to hide my exasperation this time. "She's not a kid anymore. She's almost fifteen. She'll be glad to be on her own for a while."  
  
"Well . you're probably right," she agreed hesitantly. "But give her a call so she won't worry."  
  
I rolled my eyes. Mothers can be so dense sometimes. My little sister never worries about me. "I will," I promised nevertheless.  
  
"Good. Have fun, honey. I love you. Oh . and Buffy . I'll not be home until late. Greg and I are going out for dinner. He says there's something important he needs to talk about. Oh, Buffy . this could be what we've been waiting for!  
  
WE? I almost snapped the word at her, but stopped myself the very last moment. Greg could go to hell as far as I was concerned. Dawn hated him too. At least over that we agreed. Greg was an asshole, but if I understood my mother correctly, he was going to pop the question tonight.  
  
Suddenly college looked more and more tempting.  
  
*****  
  
By the time I finished my call with Dawn we had already left the city limits. I was still seething from my mother's revelation about Greg's intentions and was starting out of the window with what had to be a stony expression. Landscape was flying by but I wasn't paying attention, until the car slowed down all of a sudden, then stopped and the ignition was turned off. A moment later something was dangling in front of my face.  
  
I blinked twice before I managed to focus on the object. It was a key. Or more precisely - the car key.  
  
"Huh?" I managed - but barely.  
  
"It's your turn."  
  
I blinked again. "My turn?"  
  
"You can drive, right?"  
  
"Ah . sure," I replied quickly, grabbing the key before he could pull it away. No way I was going to admit that I didn't have a driver's license yet. It was a constant discussion between Mom and me. She thought I wasn't ready for it, not responsible enough - I thought she was simply being stubborn and ridiculous. We hadn't been able to solve the dilemma so far.  
  
He was climbing out of the car and I scooped over behind the wheel, struggling with the seat to move it forward (waaaaay forward), so I could reach the gas and break and . oh . the car had a stick. Ooops. I was bad enough with an automatic, but a stick .  
  
I cleared my throat when he climbed back in. "Ah . it's got a stick."  
  
"Sure. It's a classic."  
  
Obviously the explanation was sufficient for him. And not wanting to embarrass myself again, I just nodded. "Oh . of course. A classic," I added weakly.  
  
"Buffy." It was the first time he had said my name and I shivered involuntarily. He had that breathless way of using it, almost like a caress, as if the air slipping through his lips was touching my skin, breezing over it, letting goose bumps rise everywhere it reached.  
  
"Yeah." It wasn't more than a breath.  
  
"You can drive - right?"  
  
"Ah ." What to do, what to do? I decided it was time to tell the truth. "I didn't exactly drive a stick before." Okay, so half-truth.  
  
"There's really nothing to it," he replied, and the smile came back on his lips, slipping through my skin, into my gut.  
  
Oh boy.  
  
"Start the ignition."  
  
I did, and the car purred to life, making me wonder how much time he spent caring for the car. It's a classic, he'd said. So it was probably old - just well kept.  
  
"Okay." His voice was low, soothing, and velvety smooth. "Now . press down on the clutch. It's the one on the left.  
  
"Left - right," I gritted out between clenched teeth, stepping on the pedal.  
  
"Good." There was that smile again. And I was supposed to keep my attention on the car. How cruel is that? "Now - see this?" He pointed at the stick in the middle between us. "It's not a problem to find the right gear. It's all written here. Reverse, first, second, third, fourth. Put in first."  
  
My tongue slipping out between slightly opened lips, I shoved the stick forward. "Okay, got it - I think."  
  
"Buffy."  
  
I took a deep breath and turned my head. "Yeah."  
  
This time it wasn't just a lifting of his lips, this time it was a full blown smile, with teeth. I'm telling you - it's a killer. "You're doing fine."  
  
"Fine. Sure. Fine. What now?"  
  
"Now - slowly easy the pressure on the pedal."  
  
"Slowly . I can do that."  
  
"Easy, Buffy. Just take it ."  
  
I did, and the car jumped, then died.  
  
". slow," he finished weakly. I heard him take a deep breath. "That's no problem. Just this time, before starting the ignition, step on the pedal first."  
  
"Okay." I bit my lower lip, certain even my ears had to be red with embarrassment.  
  
But like a miracle, this time when I eased the pressure, the car didn't jump. It started to roll.  
  
"It worked," I breathed. And when it continued to roll, I shouted, "I did it."  
  
"See - that was easy."  
  
"Easy," I muttered. "Sure."  
  
I heard him chuckle and had to grin as well. Hey, I was entitled to grin a little. After all I was driving a car - with a stick. Even though we were more crawling than moving along, it was still a victory.  
  
"Okay, the next step-"  
  
"There is a next step?" Was that panic in my voice? Now the flush crept down my neck.  
  
"Step on the clutch again, then change into second gear. To do that you have to shift the stick back."  
  
"Right," I nodded, biting my lower lip once again. Surprisingly it went smoothly. I changed gears with just a minor scratching noise, and when I finally changed into the fourth, you could barely feel it anymore. Wow. Maybe I was going to learn to drive after all.  
  
*****  
  
I was so concentrated on my driving and so proud of my success that it took a while until I noticed the deep rhythmic breaths coming from beside me. I glanced over and found my companion asleep, his eyes closed, his head leaning against the head-rest. He looked years younger, almost innocent even. I had to chuckle, innocent wasn't a word I would have chosen for him before.  
  
Turning my eyes back to the road, I couldn't help but wonder what to think of everything that had happened today. Why had he been waiting for me in front of my house? Why had he asked me to drive with him, only to fall asleep after an hour? It was all very odd, and I couldn't quite wrap my mind around it.  
  
But then, it wasn't really new, this feeling of questions unanswered where he was concerned. Ever since he'd first shown up at my school almost a year ago - it was the day of my seventeenth birthday - all I had were questions, questions he never answered.  
  
The memory is still strong in my mind. I was walking down the stairs in front of my school and there he stood. Like today, he was leaning against his black mustang, feet crossed at his ankles - only the cigarette had been missing. And he hadn't looked at me then. Instead he'd been talking to a blond guy I had noticed only once until then. I knew the guy's name was Spike and that he wasn't actually in high school. But he was lingering around, and the rumors said you could get anything from him. Pills, drugs, even weapons, if you needed them.  
  
Their conversations wasn't a friendly one, Spike looking agitated, almost spitting at the stranger, while his girlfriend - and believe me when I tell you that I could barely believe it was Harmony - was studying her red fingernails with a bored expression on her face. Harmony had been my nemesis for years, and we hated each other with a passion. She was a snotty rich girl, but Spike was an older guy, and he had a certain coolness factor that probably made up for his lack of background.  
  
The stranger, on the other hand, looked completely cool and relaxed and nobody could miss the air of authority surrounding him. After a moment, Spike turned away from him, giving the stranger a hateful look, before he jumped into his car and drove away, burning rubber in the process. The stranger shook his head, and something like a fleeting grin crossed his features before he looked up and our eyes met.  
  
And even though this might sound trite, but I had the feeling time stopped, and everything around me faded into the background. His eyes were intense and very dark, so dark I couldn't see the pupils, and they were watching me in a way I had never been watched before - I was sure of it. I was used to boys looking at me, checking me out, but this wasn't a boy. He was watching me with the eyes of a man, and I felt hot and cold all of a sudden. After a moment his mouth quirked into a half-smile before he turned away, climbed into his car and was gone.  
  
I stood like a statue, my heart beating a mile a minute, and I needed moment before I realized someone was talking to me. "What?"  
  
"I asked you if you're still in there."  
  
A hand was waved in front of my face and I blinked. "Xander?"  
  
Xander Harris, one of my two best friends, rolled his eyes, "No, I'm the eight legged monster from the black lagoon. Of course it's Xander. What is going on with you?"  
  
"She was checking out the guy," Willow, my other best friend, answered, giving me a conspiratorial wink, I almost missed.  
  
"What guy?" Xander's gaze darted around wildly, searching for possible competition. Not that Xander and I were anything but friends, it was more like an ongoing joke between us. He'd had a severe crush on me when I first started school, but over the years it had cooled down - at least I hoped it had.  
  
"Who is he?" I asked, still feeling as if walking in a daze.  
  
"You mean Angel?" Willow said, grinning broadly.  
  
"Angel?"  
  
"That's his name," my red headed friend explained. "Well, it's what he calls himself," she amended after a moment.  
  
"Angel." It came out like a breath, but I didn't care. It fit. Somehow it really fit him, even though I couldn't believe a mother would name her son Angel. On the other hand my parents had named me Buffy.  
  
"The tall guy who was talking to Spike?" Xander was looking at me with a frown. "Never saw him before."  
  
"He's been there the whole week," Willow informed us. "That's how I know his name. Don't you think he's really good looking?"  
  
"Oh, please!" Xander rolled his eyes again. "Sure, he's older, and manly, and he has all these cool leather clothes, but he could be your father."  
  
I snorted, finally leaving my daze. "Hardly. He can't be more than 23 or 24."  
  
"And his car is a classic." That came from Cordelia who had come up behind us, looking at Xander as if he was nothing but a bug. Flipping her long dark hair over her shoulder, she added, "He's just what the doctor prescribed." With that she breezed past us, her three hundred dollar shoes clicking on the hard surface.  
  
Xander watched her leave and scratched his head. "Cordelia Chase, always a heart for the rich and the pretty."  
  
Eyes wide with innocence, Willow stared at him, "I thought you just said Angel wasn't good looking."  
  
And that's how it went that day. From then on, Angel came regularly, always hanging out in front of our school, but unlike Spike he never sold anything to the kids. He just seemed to be there. For weeks our eyes met and for weeks he was giving me those sexy half-smirks, he seemed to have developed into an art. It made me feel hot and cold and totally immune to other guys. And there had been some of them.  
  
Not counting Pike who was pre-Angel, and my obsession with Billy Fordham - and we are not going to talk about that - Scott Hope was the first. He was nice and shy, and really sweet, but every time I compared him to Angel he came up short. So after two or three chaste kisses we decided we weren't made for each other.  
  
The next was Parker, who tried his considerable charms on me in the cafeteria, but as I had just seen Angel standing near the window, I was *so* not paying attention. I think I really hurt his ego, when I didn't respond to any of his attempts to draw me into a conversation. Willow couldn't stop giggling after he left and weeks later she still started laughing when we ran across him somewhere, which was wigging Parker out in the worst way and he avoided meeting us all together.  
  
Then came Riley, sweet, blond, blue-eyed, he was a college student I met one day at the movies, and the most persistent of all. Yet, nothing happened. We had coffee together now and then where he tried his best to catch my attention. A month later he gave up. I was just too preoccupied with a certain someone in front of my school - and I hadn't even talked to him yet! How crazy is that? If Angel knew about it, he'd probably run away screaming.  
  
"Where are we?"  
  
I almost jumped out of my seat, having been so lost in memories, at Angel's sleepy voice.  
  
"Ah . about 50 Miles out of town - I think."  
  
He blinked, and yawned, showing me two rows of nice white teeth, and a tongue I really wanted . I shifted in my seat, the sudden heat between my thighs not really comfortable.  
  
"Are you hungry?" In response my stomach gave a low growl and he chuckled. "Why don't we stop at the next opportunity. I also need to use the bathroom."  
  
"Okay," I said, not wondering for a minute what the hell we were doing, or where we were going. I was so content to be with him in one car, nothing else mattered. And yes, it's totally crazy, so I don't mind if you mention that.  
  
"And the car is still in once piece," he murmured after a moment.  
  
My eyes narrowed. "Very funny. I have you know that I can drive."  
  
"Just not with a stick."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"You have a driver's license?"  
  
"Ah.."  
  
"That's what I thought."  
  
"But I can drive," I pouted. "You're still alive!"  
  
He chuckled again, running fingers through his already disheveled hair, making it stand up on end. "Just barely. But I suppose after a proper amount of coffee I might survive."  
  
"Are you going to tell me where we're going at some point?"  
  
"Don't you like surprises?"  
  
"What I'd like was for you not to answer all of my questions with another."  
  
"But it's such fun."  
  
And wasn't he the joker. "Yeah. Fun," I grumbled.  
  
"Hey, brighten up a little. It's still early. After some food and coffee you'll be a little less grumpy.."  
  
"I am *not* grumpy."  
  
"Are too, but I like it."  
  
"Tell me, is it just the sugar low or are there certain times when you revert into childhood."  
  
For the first time since I've known him, he laughed. Not a chuckle, a deep belly laugh - and he looked so devastatingly beautiful, it almost hurt, and I wondered what a guy like Angel would want with a girl like me. Not even out of high school, barely eighteen, and there was the most gorgeous man I'd ever met, spending time with me. Maybe it was me with the sugar low, and I was getting delirious.  
  
"You look lovely when you're angry, do you know that?"  
  
I barely managed not to drive into the ditch. "Wha-what?" I asked, glancing over at him. But he wasn't looking at me, instead he was staring out of the window, his palms resting on his leather clad thighs, long, strong and capable, and very male.  
  
God, what was I doing here? He was a man. I was an eighteen year old high school student. He was probably expecting to do something manly and .  
  
"Stop."  
  
I blinked. "What?"  
  
"Stop whatever you're thinking," he ordered, looking amused again.  
  
"O-okay." I liked my suddenly dry lips. "Why?"  
  
"Because you were speeding and that can't be good."  
  
"Oh!" My eyes flew to the speedometer, I eased off the gas with a shocked gasp, until the car went back to its normal speed. "Sorry," I muttered.  
  
"It's okay. Buffy?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"If you want . uh . I'm a good listener."  
  
"I'm just hungry," I lied. No way was I going to tell him what had gone through my head. And I could hardly ask him why he was spending time with me, why he had taken me on a drive. That was just too embarrassing.  
  
He sighed, clearly not believing me. But he thankfully let it go. "Then let's get some food into you."  
  
"Yeah, let's."  
  
*****  
  
I hated greasy food because it had the bad habit to add pounds where I didn't need them, but I ate anyway, as greasy food seemed to be all they had. We ordered burgers, fried and something to drink, then settled comfortably in our booths, waiting for our lunch to arrive. When I realized he was smiling slightly, I frowned.  
  
"What? Do I have something on my face?"  
  
He chuckled. "No. I just like watching you."  
  
I couldn't help but roll my eyes. I mean, watching me? Please! "Really? Your life has to be pretty boring."  
  
"Why do you think that?"  
  
"I'm not very interesting," I told him. I wasn't trying to be coy, I really meant it. But, of course, I've lived with myself for eighteen years, so there wasn't a lot for me to discover. I was pretty familiar with myself.  
  
"That's where you're wrong." He linked his fingers behind his head and scrutinized me, which made me uncomfortable. "Are you glad your mother is dating a new man?"  
  
"What?" I felt as if he'd punched me in the gut. What on earth did he know about my mother? Why was he even paying attention to her?  
  
"I asked-"  
  
"I heard you. But what I want to know is what this is to you?"  
  
He shrugged, "Nothing. I just thought it was something you had on your mind."  
  
I looked at him, stunned. Was the guy a mind reader or what? He couldn't have heard me talking to mom in the car, not above the noise the car was making. "Have you been spying on me?"  
  
It was his turn to frown, but after a moment it turned into a smile. "Now, why should I do that?"  
  
"I don't know," I snapped, angry now. "But you seem to know an awful lot about my mother's life."  
  
He shrugged again, "I'm interested in her daughter. Isn't it natural to know about her mother, too?"  
  
"Not if the daughter suddenly has the feeling you've been-"  
  
I was interrupted in mid-sentence by the arrival of the waitress who placed our drinks in front of us, then disappeared again.  
  
"- stalking me," I then finished.  
  
His left brow went up, "Stalking you?" Angel unlaced his fingers and picked up his drink. Taking a sip, he looked at me over the rim of his glass, "I admit I've been waiting for you today. But our other meetings were by chance. I just happened to be in front of your school."  
  
"Oh, sure. And I suppose you just *happened* to be there when I went home?" I wasn't sure why I was getting so worked up over this. So he knew about Greg. Big deal. But somehow I felt . betrayed, not quite knowing why, but feeling that way nevertheless.  
  
He gave me a smile of relief. "Exactly. It's not as if I need to stalk women," he then announced.  
  
I rolled my eyes - I just couldn't help myself, "Big ego much?"  
  
He laughed, making me tingly all over. Damn. "I'm just stating facts, Buffy. Women, girls, they tend to gravitate in my direction. It's been that way since I was twelve."  
  
I had no problems understanding why. Besides, I had watched the girls in high school - and that included myself - swoon over him from day one. The only one who seemed immune to his charms was Willow, but she was still so helplessly in love with Xander, no other man could measure up.  
  
"Don't get me wrong," he interrupted my thoughts. "I don't think I'm someone special. I was raised to believe that looks aren't something you should be proud of. But it's still a fact that I never had to look for women, they always came to me."  
  
I knew he was telling the truth. First of all, I had the living proof right in front of me, and second . Well, second, the look in his eyes told me that he was completely serious.  
  
"It still doesn't explain why you know so much about my mother's," and here I winced, "love life."  
  
Our food arrived then, and for a moment we were distracted, but when the waitress left, I heard him sigh and looked up.  
  
"I know your mother is dating Greg Henderson. In fact, I've known it for quite some time. I also know that you and your sister are not happy about it."  
  
"You," I swallowed, my appetite completely lost, "know . about Greg?"  
  
Taking a bite from his hamburger, he mumbled, "Yeah."  
  
"And . how do you know him?" I demanded, turning my most lethal glare on him.  
  
Instead of answering my question, he asked one of his own. "Do you know how old Greg is?"  
  
"No," I snapped. "And I'm not interested."  
  
"Greg is thirty-three years old, a few years younger than your mother." He paused, took another bite, chewed it and swallowed. "Have you ever looked at Greg, Buffy?"  
  
"No," I gritted out, wishing I hadn't given him the key for his car back. But because I had, I was now stranded in the middle of nowhere with no opportunity to escape.  
  
"Greg Henderson," he said slowly, "is my step-brother, Buffy."  
  
When I was a kid, I always wondered how swallowing a stone might feel like. And now I knew. It was as if lead was sinking in my stomach, pulling it slowly towards the floor. "Wh-what?"  
  
"He is my step-brother. And he loves your mother very much. I know that because I know him. And your mother loves him, Buffy. But first and foremost she is your and Dawn's mother, and she will put your wishes above her own." He paused again, watching me intently, before he continued, "I know you wished your parents would get back together, and if this was a fairy tale, they probably would. But it isn't a fairy-tale, and we all have to play the cards life deals us. So why don't you back off a little and enjoy that your mother has found a new guy to be happy with?"  
  
I opened my mouth to tell him where he could shove his great knowledge about Greg Henderson, but no word came out. Not only because my mouth was so dry that I had the feeling my tongue was stuck in it, but also because the thoughts in my head were tumbling all over each other, and the blood was rushing in my ears like the Niagara Falls. But I knew one thing, I couldn't continue sitting here with him as if we were best buds. He had betrayed me and I needed to get away.  
  
I jumped up and bolted from the restaurant, his voice calling my name, but I was already out of the door, and I had no intention to come back any time soon.  
  
to be continued . 


	2. Chapter 2

FIC: The Driving Lesson  
  
Author: Jill Disclaimer: nope, not mine, never will be Rating: R Pairing: B/A Category: Angst, Romance, Drama - all the good stuff Feedback: oh yes, please send it to Connemara.Scarlets@t-online.de Spoilers: none really, this is complete AU  
  
My most humblest thanks go to my beta-readers, Jade, Kay and Kristen. You rock girls!!!  
  
I got the idea for this fic by - go figure - a Slash-story. It's called "Sleep While I Drive" by Jenn ( - the story is Clex (Smallville), just to warn you. If you are a fan of Clex - read it now. It's phenomenal.)  
  
Chapter 2 (of 4)  
  
As soon as I was out of the door I remembered that I still had his cell- phone in my pocket. Yanking it out, I stopped for a moment and closed my eyes. Shit! What was the number again? I finally remembered and punched it in, holding the phone to my ear while I was looking around wildly, trying to find somewhere to hide.  
  
"Yeah?" came the voice through the line after three rings.  
  
"Willow!" I almost shouted, deciding to round the diner to the back.  
  
"Buffy?"  
  
I rolled my eyes. "Duh! Of course it's Buffy."  
  
"I'll have you know," came her indignant reply, "that there are more people calling me. Like . like two or three. I mean Xander is calling me all the time, and then-"  
  
"Will, Will," I interrupted her. "I believe you, okay. This is an emergency."  
  
"An . emergency?" I could hear the barely veiled panic and quickly backpedaled.  
  
"Not an emergency, emergency. But I need your help. I've been kidnapped." Uh . that didn't come out quite right. "I mean-"  
  
"Kidnapped?" Her voice rose several notches. "Like, for real? I mean, is there a ransom? There will be a ransom, right-"  
  
"Will! Chill, will you? This isn't a movie. I haven't been kidnapped by someone evil." Although I wasn't sure if I was maybe a bit hasty in saying that. After what Angel had done, he might fit in the "evil" department after all.  
  
"Oh." She paused. "Oh!" Suddenly she seemed excited, and I frowned.  
  
"Willow?"  
  
"That sounds sooo romantic. I mean, is he good looking?"  
  
"Well, yeah-"  
  
"See. He's good looking. All dark, and tortured, and brooding?"  
  
"Uh-"  
  
"Ohhhh!"  
  
She was starting to like this whole thing way too much. I had called her because I needed her help, not to listen to her overdeveloped romantic babble. "Willow! Listen to me. I really need your help. I'm," I looked around. Damn. Even though I was driving the car, I hadn't really paid attention to where we were going. "Uh . somewhere. At a diner. I think . it's the main highway north of town. I think I'm about fifty miles outside. I'm sort of stranded. Can you come get me?"  
  
"Uh . Buffy, I really would, but . I don't have a car." She paused, then added, "Not that I can drive anyway."  
  
"What about Xander? He can drive."  
  
"Oh! Sure, I'll call Xander. Can I call you back?"  
  
Maybe not the smartest idea. "How about I'll call you back in half an hour?"  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Thanks, Will."  
  
"Hey," she laughed a little nervously, "that's what friends are for, right?"  
  
"Right. Later, Will."  
  
"Later. And, Buffy."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Don't worry, we'll come and get you."  
  
*****  
  
"Stay away from me," I warned when I saw him standing at the corner behind the diner about five minutes later. I had found a relatively secluded spot at the back when I'd run away and inwardly I had hoped he would not find me quite so soon. I had, however, harbored no illusions that he wouldn't find me.  
  
"Buffy-"  
  
"No!" I hissed. "Stay back. I don't want you here. You're a liar." To my own horror I felt tears well up in my eyes, at the betrayal I felt deep in my gut. Damn it, and damn him! Damn him for letting me dream he was interested in me, that waiting for me in front of my house today had been for my sake.  
  
"I'm sorry, Buffy," he said softly, leaning against the corner, his eyes intent. "But I saw no other way to talk to you in private."  
  
"I can't believe you! You've been hanging around in front of my school for almost a year, and all that just to help your brother?" Silently, I felt jealous for the kind of brotherly love they obviously felt for each other. Dawn and I had never been that close.  
  
"No. I was around your school for entirely different reasons. That we met was purely coincidental."  
  
Did he really expect me to believe him? "Tell that to your grandmother."  
  
"She died a long time ago," he replied, and I forced myself not to react to the underlying pain I heard in his voice. "I told you that my parents and I. we're not talking. But Greg and I have always been close."  
  
Refusing to look at him, to let my hormones get in the way of my anger, I frowned at the top of my shoes. "You said he was your step-brother."  
  
"My father had an affair when he was in college. The result is Greg. When his mother died my father grudgingly took him in. But there's no love lost between them. Greg left as soon as he could support himself. He's a good guy, Buffy."  
  
I didn't want to hear this. Didn't want to be told that my mother had actually met a good guy for a change. Don't get me wrong, I love my Dad, but nobody could call him a good guy, at least not where my Mom was concerned. And now Greg was supposed to be the one?  
  
"Be honest, Buffy," I heard Angel talk again. "Do you hate Greg because he's done something, or do you simply despise him because he could be a threat for your mother's attention?"  
  
"I don't hate him," I muttered. And I didn't. No really, anyway. He wasn't a bad guy, but I couldn't stand the sight of him. Deep inside I knew my Dad wasn't going to come back, and after the way he had behaved when my parents split, my Mom was probably better off without him, but that didn't mean that my heart wasn't still wishing for a fairy tale ending.  
  
"That's good to know," he said. "He likes you a lot by the way." He paused, then added, "As do I."  
  
I had to snort. "Yeah, sure."  
  
"I do." He seemed actually offended by my reaction.  
  
"Oh, sure. That's why you dragged me off into . the wilderness to drop this little bomb on me. Because you *care* so much for me. Riiiiight." I did my best to put as much sarcasm into the words as possible. "Next thing you're telling me you're a vampire, right?"  
  
He chuckled, "No, I'm not. But I do care for you. And because I do, and, I admit, because I also care for my brother, I agreed to help him."  
  
"By stalking me?"  
  
"I already told you-"  
  
"You did. Only - I'm not sure anymore what I can believe and what not. You made me believe you were taking me for a drive, and it turns out you only wanted to get me on my own to tell what an angel your brother is." I paused, "Oops - sorry for the pun."  
  
I finally turned my head to look at him and saw him straighten before he moved closer.  
  
Feeling a little unsure about his intentions, I straightened, too. "What?"  
  
"I just realized you don't even know my name. It's Liam."  
  
I laughed, and I know I was behaving like a brat, but I didn't care. "What kind of stupid name is that?"  
  
"It's Irish," he replied, something flickering through his eyes I couldn't identify. "For William."  
  
"Liam . Henderson?"  
  
"No." He shook his head and stopped about ten feet away from me. "Henderson was the name of Greg's mother. Mine is Molloy."  
  
"Sounds kind of lame." Yes, I was a first class brat, but I figured after the stunt he had pulled on me, I was inclined to pay him back with a few insults.  
  
He shrugged and leaned his left shoulder against the wall, facing me with those dark eyes that seemed to hide things you wanted to explore. "If it weren't for Greg, I would've probably ended up a drug junkie or something. He kept me straight all the times when I thought I couldn't take it anymore."  
  
I remembered what he'd told me about his father, and wondered what it had to be like to grow up that way. Not that my home was the ideal, but even after all I know my parents love me. Seemed as if Greg had been Angel's lifeline. Damn. I didn't want to feel sympathetic for Greg. But I had to give it to Angel - he was good. "Stop doing that," I warned.  
  
He frowned, "Doing what?"  
  
"Don't play innocent with me. You're trying to make me feel for Greg. You want me to see him as a person."  
  
He shrugged again. "That so bad?"  
  
"We don't need a man in our life. We're happy." I instantly realized how immature and selfish that sounded but I couldn't make myself care. The idea of having another man live with us was . terrifying.  
  
"Yeah? Well, maybe your Mom needs a new guy in her life."  
  
I hated him for being so reasonable, and I hated him even more for being right. I snorted and tossed my head at him, "You're what - twenty-three?"  
  
"Twenty-two."  
  
"Whatever. What makes you a fountain of wisdom where relationships are concerned?"  
  
"I'm not," he agreed with a nod. "But I know my brother loves your Mom. He had a hard life. He worked for what he achieved. He's the most dependable person I know and he's a great guy. I want him to be happy."  
  
"And if I'm happy is of no consequence?" I asked bitterly.  
  
I saw something flash in his eyes and realized it was anger. "You are eighteen years old. You're going off to college soon, and a new life begins for you. What's left for your mother? Are you really that selfish that you won't let her be happy, are you really such a spoiled little brat?" His voice rose while he spoke and he was almost shouting at the end.  
  
I flinched at the violence I could feel linger just underneath the surface of his leather-clad body, and took a step back.  
  
He stopped instantly, holding up his hands. "Whoa. Buffy, I'm not here to hurt you."  
  
I laughed harshly, "Newsflash, Angel. You already did."  
  
It was his turn to flinch, and I could see him taking a deep breath before he spoke. "I'm sorry. Maybe . maybe this was wrong." He ran slightly shaky fingers through his hair, "Hell, I just wanted to help Greg and . you were so ." He turned away and I heard him curse underneath his breath.  
  
"Angel?"  
  
"Just give me a minute." His back was stiff and I could see he was taking several deep breaths. Then he turned back to me, "Look, I . Maybe it was wrong to bring you here, but I really wanted to talk to you, and didn't want you to just run away."  
  
"Because of your precious Greg?" I tossed at him, not trying to hide the hurt in my voice.  
  
Impatiently he ran his fingers through his hair again. "Partly, yeah. I mean, he's always been there for me and when he asked me ." His head came up and his eyes were suddenly intense, "But it wasn't the only reason."  
  
"Oh, thanks so much."  
  
"Buffy-" he seemed exasperated that I wasn't giving an inch, but I didn't care.  
  
"Hey, I'm not the one who kidnapped a girl under false pretenses."  
  
Again, his eyes flashed with anger. "I didn't kidnap you. You went willingly."  
  
"It was still under false pretenses," I shot back.  
  
He cocked his head, scrutinizing my face with an intensity that made me squirm. "I never told you why I wanted you to come with me. There were no false pretenses."  
  
"That's such bullshit. You knew why I went with you. Because I have the hots for you and .." I trailed off, my face flaming with embarrassment. Shit! What had I just blurted out? Hell, me and big mouth. "I . uh-"  
  
"Buffy," he cut me off, and I wasn't really surprised to see him smile. "It's okay. I'm . glad you have the hots for me." His smile widened. "Because, you see, I have the hots for you, too."  
  
"You do?" And could I sound any more pleased? Or desperate? Geez! "I . ah . mean, that's . nice." Nice! God, Buffy, just kill yourself and get over with it! He laughed, and I don't know why, but it made me angry again. Suppressing my own bubbling laughter, I glared at him. "You're trying to distract me. Don't. I'm still mad at you."  
  
"I see." He tried to look serious, but that smile was still tugging at the corners of his lips.  
  
And that made me even angrier. "Stop grinning at me," I shouted. "You brought me here to plead your brother's case. Fine. You've done that, now get me back home."  
  
"Do you really hate Greg that much?" he asked suddenly, changing the subject.  
  
What kind of stupid question was that? I barely knew the guy. Of course from what I'd seen, I thought he was pretty handsome, nothing like Angel of course, but still. "I don't hate him," I told him, surprising myself with the answer. Because it was true, I really didn't hate Greg.  
  
"Then what's your problem?"  
  
"Can we stop talking about Greg already?" I didn't even try to keep the annoyance I felt from my voice. "It's bad enough that my Mom can't stop talking about him the whole day long. It's Greg this and Greg that," I mimicked her voice. "Greg is so fantastic, did you see what Greg brought for us, Greg the wonderful." I rolled my eyes for good measure.  
  
"And that doesn't tell you anything?"  
  
"What? That my mother is obsessed with some guy? Sure. Excuse me if I don't like it very much."  
  
He sighed loudly, "I'm sorry you feel that way. I can only repeat that-"  
  
"He's a great guy," I finished for him. "You delivered your message. Now, how about we jump in your car and take me home?"  
  
"You have a little catsup on your chin," he remarked suddenly and startled me by reaching out. Only then I realized how close he was. Smiling slightly, he touched my chin with his forefinger, then rubbed it back and forth. My response to the playful gesture shocked me. My lips parted, and heat shot from where his finger touched clear down to my toes, awakening nerve endings I didn't even know existed. I had the sudden urge to ask him to stroke a little bit higher, so I could touch that warm finger with my tongue, or draw it into my mouth and bite down on it .  
  
Oh God, could I be any more pathetic? Even as I gritted my teeth and pressed my lips together, so I wouldn't say anything I'd be sorry for later, my gaze met his. Was he feeling the same way?  
  
Unfortunately nothing showed on his face. Instead he dropped his hand away from my face. The truth of it hit me like a splash of cold water in the face. Of course he wasn't feeling the same way. He hadn't brought me here because he was interested in me; he'd brought me to plead his brother's case.  
  
"You're trying to distract me again," I accused him, taking a step back.  
  
He grinned, and there was a wicked gleam in his eyes that had my traitorous heart flip-flopping once again. "Is it working?"  
  
"No," I replied, trying to sound firm, but at the way he cocked his head, I knew he wasn't buying any of it.  
  
"Do you know why I agreed to do this?" he asked his voice low and sexy.  
  
"No." Mine was weak. Just the way my knees felt.  
  
"Because . I like you."  
  
I liked my suddenly dry lips. "Y-you . you don't even know me."  
  
"But I do. I see you every day at school."  
  
That reminded me of something. "Why are you at my school?"  
  
"I was working," he said cryptically.  
  
It annoyed me to no end. "Working? Are people being paid now for lurking around high school girls?"  
  
A small frown appeared on his forehead, and his lips pursed. I wondered how it would feel to taste it, to kiss . Down, girl. I reminded myself firmly that I was mad at him, and glared.  
  
"I didn't lurk," he said after a moment. "As I said, I was working. What do you know about Spike?"  
  
"The blond guy? Kind of pale, kind of old?" It was my turn to frown, "Thinking about it, I wonder what Harmony is seeing in him?"  
  
"Harmony?"  
  
"Harmony Kendall, his girlfriend. She's a senior too. What about Spike?" A suspicion rose, "Are you working for him?" I couldn't really imagine Angel working for someone like Spike, but hey, stranger things have happened. Like a girl being dumb enough to misjudge a guy's attention for attraction.  
  
"No," he shook his head on a chuckle. "Spike is a dealer, Buffy."  
  
"I know. Everyone knows." And suddenly I knew, and I couldn't believe how dumb I was. "You're . you're a cop! I've read about them, cops pretending to be high school students-" I stopped with another frown. As much as I had liked watching the re-runs of 21 Jump Street, and drooling over Johnny Depp, but Angel had never pretended to be a student. "Are you a cop?"  
  
"Kind of," he admitted.  
  
My frown deepened. "Kind of? What's that supposed to mean? Either you are a cop or you aren't."  
  
"I'm not a regular cop. I'm working for a special unit that deals with high school crime. But I'm not the type who can blend in with the students."  
  
"Really?" I know, it sounded sarcastic, but why should I care? This man, who had followed me into my dreams for the better part of a year, who had ruined me for potential boyfriends - admittedly without his knowledge - was a cop. He hadn't come to my school to see me. He'd come because of . "You were sent to watch Spike!"  
  
"We've been watching him for a while now, but the guy is clever. It was hard to find evidence that wouldn't blow up in court."  
  
"Why are you telling me this now?" I couldn't help the suspicion I felt in my gut. He had lied to me before. "Is that another attempt to . make me feel for you?"  
  
The left corner of his mouth turned up. "Do you?"  
  
Irritated I pursed my lips. "What?"  
  
"Feel for me?"  
  
I wanted to slap him. God, I wanted to hit him so bad. But I didn't. "Stop it," I demanded, giving him my most lethal glare instead. The one even Dawn couldn't ignore.  
  
He heaved a heavy sigh as if dealing with me was much more than he could deal with. Well, tough luck. He'd brought me here, now he had to live with it. "What do I have to do to make you believe that I'm not a bad guy?"  
  
"Believe and you in one sentence is a little much for me right now," I snapped.  
  
He gave me an irritated look, run his fingers through his hair and shook his head, "Fine. So I deceived you."  
  
"Ha," I cried triumphantly. "Now you're admitting it. You deceived me, you- "  
  
"But," he interrupted me, "I'm not sorry."  
  
The triumph instantly deflated. "You're not?"  
  
"No," he closed the gap between us and was suddenly very close, even closer than he'd been before, and tilted his head toward me. "Aren't you going to ask me why?" he said in a voice that was barely a whisper.  
  
My heart started to hammer in my chest. "N-no," I stuttered, feeling hot and cold at the same time. When had I turned into a stammering idiot? But God, he was so close. I could feel the warmth coming from his body, and his smell, a combination of spices I couldn't quite identify, made my skin tingle.  
  
There was disappointment in his eyes, but it was only for the split of a second. A moment later it was gone, replaced by a heat I had never seen before, reminding me again that this wasn't a school boy, but a man. "That's too bad," he whispered. "Because I really wanted to tell you. Well, I suppose I need to give you my special explanation then."  
  
The next thing I felt was his lips on mine.  
  
To be continued. 


	3. Chapter 3

FIC: The Driving Lesson (3/4)  
  
Author: Jill Disclaimer: nope, not mine, never will be; if I could I'd claim Gale though *g* Rating: R Pairing: B/A Category: Angst, Romance, Drama - all the good stuff Feedback: oh yes, please send it to Connemara.Scarlets@t-online.de Spoilers: none really, this is complete AU  
  
I got the idea for this fic by - go figure - a Slash-story. It's called "Sleep While I Drive" by Jenn ( - the story is Clex (Smallville), just to warn you. If you are a fan of Clex - read it now. It's phenomenal.)  
  
Cupping my palms to her face, I lifted her head. Her lashes fluttered, revealing her hazel eyes filled with confusion, but also with a desire she didn't know how to deal with. I whispered her name, then touched my mouth to hers. So sweet, so hot, so soft. I longed to take my time, to finally acquaint myself with the shape of her lips, the taste of her skin, the texture of her innocent kiss, everything I had dreamt of for a year.  
  
I slid my tongue into her mouth, taking this first kiss to deeper levels, and she didn't object. I heard a faint moan, before she raised her hands to cling to my jacket, kissing me back.  
  
And somehow that brought me back to reality and to what we were doing. I ended the kiss and pulled away. Breathing hard, I looked down at her, "We can't do this. It isn't fair." Was that my voice, harsh, barely functional?  
  
First disappointment, then embarrassment, crept into her eyes, and she tried to get away, but I held her still, not wanting her to flee, not wanting her to understand wrong what just had happened between us. I had to remind myself that she was barely eighteen, and that I had to tread carefully with her. She was far too important to mess this up.  
  
"Let me go," she demanded, her voice weak, her struggles against my hold even weaker. She avoided looking at me, by keeping her eyes cast to the ground.  
  
"Buffy," I said softly, using one hand to cup her cheek. I wanted her to look into my eyes when I said it. "This isn't the place to do . get carried away. Also, I didn't bring you here to seduce you."  
  
"You didn't?"  
  
There was such disappointment in her voice, I barely suppressed a grin. She flooded crimson when she noticed what she'd just said.  
  
"Well, not in the first place," I admitted after I was sure I wasn't going to laugh. If I was sure of one thing then it was that laughing out loud wouldn't get me any points in her book. "It's a little public anyway."  
  
"Public." She coughed, then nodded. "Public, right." God, she was just so cute the way her blush spread to her ears and neck. I wanted to lean forward and lick . Bad, Angel. Very, very bad thought.  
  
I cleared my throat. "Ah . Do you," I licked my lips, "have a boyfriend?"  
  
"Huh?" She seemed completely confused, and also a little irritated with me.  
  
"I asked-"  
  
"I heard you." The confusion was gone, and her eyes were sharp again. "And if you have to know, it's entirely your fault that I don't." He voice was like a whip. "Not that I didn't have enough offers. There was Scott, and Xander," she started to count them on her fingers, "and Parker. Oh . and Riley. Don't forget Riley."  
  
The question had been completely innocent, had been meant to distract her, but now I was sorry I had asked. I didn't want to hear those names, didn't want to think about the fact that each name stood for a living, full- blooded male lusting after . I frowned, "Xander? Isn't that the guy you always hang out with?"  
  
"Yeah," she replied almost absently, chewing on her sexy lower lip. I had to take a deep breath, and still my groin tightened considerably. Suddenly she blinked, "Hey - how do you know Xander?" And a sly grin followed, "You have been watching me!"  
  
I had, but I wasn't going to admit it. The situation was already complicated enough, without admitting that I had been stalking her. Well, not stalking, but watching . keeping an eye on her . well, something like that, and that the job had come in handy to do exactly that.  
  
I still remember the first day of my assignment. I was standing there, wondering if Spike would show up when she suddenly appeared on top of the stairs. To say I was awestruck would be putting it mildly. The sun was shining down on her golden hair, her eyes were shining, and she was laughing. I know it sounds corny, but in the best dreams I hear that laughter and it's like my mother singing me to sleep when I was still little.  
  
So there I was, an undercover agent, assigned to find evidence against a dealer, and I was falling head over heels for a high school student, a girl just barely seventeen. There wasn't a lot I could do, but grit my teeth and suffer through it. Of course, seeing her every day, hearing her laugh, didn't help a lot. But I somehow managed to keep myself in check, even though it was the worst kind of torture. At least I never saw her with a guy - apart from her friend Xander - which was a relief, albeit a small one.  
  
I found myself wishing I could be at her side, wanted to hear her complaints, wanted to laugh with her about silly jokes.  
  
I flinched when someone snapped fingers right in front of my face. "Earth to Angel. Are you still in there?"  
  
"Huh?" I blinked and found Buffy frowning at me.  
  
"You just went away . somewhere."  
  
"Sorry." I sighed, annoyed at myself for daydreaming. Rubbing my nape, I looked at her, "You want some ice cream?"  
  
"Is that another try to distract me?"  
  
I sighed again. She didn't trust me and it wasn't really a surprise. "No. Just ice cream. Do you want some?"  
  
She seemed to consider my offer, then finally she nodded. "Okay. But I want the biggest there is." Her head held high she stalked around the diner and entered the restaurant once again.  
  
*****  
  
I still remember when Greg came to live with us. He was almost fourteen and I had just left the diaper phase. I was too small to understand that he and my Dad didn't get along, but even if I had, I probably wouldn't have cared. He instantly became my hero, and until today I can hardly believe that he let me tag after him. But he did, and my worship grew.  
  
It was just after my eighth birthday when he left. I was already old enough to hear the constant yelling and the occasional black eye. One day Greg came home and told us he had enlisted. Again my father yelled at him, but by then Greg was too big and strong for him to hit. Dad told Greg how stupid he was, that he could've gone to the academy and become an officer, but Greg looked at him, then went to his room and collected his bag. In the door he stopped, hugged me hard and promised we'd stay in touch.  
  
That was the last time I saw him for five years. Despite his promise I heard nothing, not a call, not a letter. Only later I found out that it was because my parents prevented any communication. My father and I had out first serious confrontation after I found out what had happened. My father never even apologized. After that the relationship with my parents never really recovered. My mother and I talk on the phone from time to time, but I avoid my father whenever possible. The only regret I have is my little sister, Kathy. She's fourteen now and I wish I could talk to her more often.  
  
"You're daydreaming."  
  
Buffy's voice cut through my musings and slightly shook my head when I looked at her over the table. In front of her sat the most enormous cookie dough mint chip ice cream I'd ever seen. On top was whipped cream, decorated with hot fudge I could smell all the way across the table.  
  
"You're actually going to eat that?"  
  
She gave me an evil grin and picked up the spoon. "Just watch me."  
  
I shuddered slightly, and suddenly remembered something. "Who is Riley?" He wasn't just Riley. Don't forget Riley, she'd said. I felt another stab of jealousy. Damn. I had it bad.  
  
The spoon still in her mouth she narrowed her eyes at me. "Huh?"  
  
The spoon left her mouth and the tip of her tongue followed, licking over the lips I had tasted not long ago. Heat rushed into my groin and I spoke a silent prayer of thanks that we were sitting, and nobody could see beneath my waistline. "Riley," I croaked, and had to clear my throat. "You mentioned someone called Riley."  
  
Another spoon full of ice cream wandered into her mouth, and she closed her eyes to savor the taste. "Oh . hmmm . Riley."  
  
This time jealousy was like a hot iron slamming into my gut, cooling my groin considerably. Hmmm . Riley? What the . "Yeah," I kept my voice as cool as a cucumber, "Riley."  
  
Again her eyes narrowed as another spoon of ice cream disappeared in her mouth, "Hmmm . Why do you want to know about Riley? Are you jealous?"  
  
I'd always guessed that Buffy was a smart girl. Unlike other guys, who were happy with a dumb Bimbo with a hot body, I was always attracted to girls who could do more than to just care for the size of their boobs. Right then, however, I wished Buffy didn't have such a sharp brain.  
  
"Jealous?" I asked as if it was the most foreign concept, my voice sounding unnaturally high. "Dream on, little girl."  
  
She shrugged, clearly not believing it. "Riley was . a college student."  
  
A college student? I took a deep breath. "Good looking?"  
  
Again ice-cream disappeared into her mouth. "Hmmm . I guess. Blond, blue eyes, over six foot .," she trailed off, licking whipped cream that had been left on her lower lip.  
  
I, on the other hand, kept my hands beneath the table, clenching and unclenching my fingers as she added description after description of this unknown college student. Gritting my teeth, I managed to press out, "Sports?"  
  
She shrugged again, "Yeah. Probably. I mean," she scoped up another spoon, "He had those really wide shoulders. "They were even wider than the chairs," she laughed, pearly, clearly enjoying the memory - and I wanted to pound good old Riley into the ground. The she let out a long sigh, "And now he's gone." The spoon clattered on the table and her eyes were suddenly blazing, "And whose fault is that? Huh?"  
  
"Ah." I was speechless. In a flash she'd gone from temptress to tigress. Wow!  
  
"It's yours."  
  
Mine? "Uh . mine?"  
  
"Yours!" She glared at me, her slim forefinger pointing at my nose. "Because you were always there. Giving me those looks."  
  
I had given her looks? "I don't remember giving you any looks."  
  
"You were SO giving me looks. And," she blushed a little, "okay, I was giving you looks. But that's *not* the point here. The point is, by pretending to be interested in me, you destroyed all my opportunities to lose my virginity before I wither and die."  
  
As soon as the words were out, she turned the color of ripe tomatoes, her eyes went huge with shock and she clamped a hand over her mouth. She looked so cute, I wanted to reach over, pull her into my lap and kiss her senseless.  
  
I had to bite down on the laugh that wanted to break free, and tried to keep a straight face instead. "I think it will be while until you wither and die, Buffy."  
  
Avoiding my eyes, she muttered, "You don't know that."  
  
"Buffy," I said softly, "look at me."  
  
"I can't," she replied, her voice heavy with embarrassment. "God! I want to die right now."  
  
This time I couldn't hold back the chuckle. "Buffy. Being a virgin at eighteen isn't something to be ashamed of."  
  
"What do you know?" she attacked once again, embarrassment gone. "You probably lost your virginity at fourteen."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I mean, look at you." She gestured at me, waving her hand. "You probably were a babe magnet the moment you left your mother's womb."  
  
I grinned. "Nice imagery. But no, I wasn't. Well, at least, I don't think so. I can't really remember."  
  
Now she had to laugh as well. Throwing her napkin at me, she giggled, "You're impossible."  
  
"So I've been told. And just so you know, I lost my virginity on the night of my seventeenth birthday." I shrugged when I saw her eyes widen, "Call me a late bloomer." It wasn't a memory I was particularly fond of. Greg was the only other person - apart from my father - who knew what had happened that night.  
  
"Late bloomer, my ass," she shot back. "Seventeen!" It was almost like a wail, before she sighed. "Oh, well, Riley wasn't that great anyway."  
  
Riley again. "So you . ah . never even considered ." I trailed off, wondering what had gotten into me that I was discussing a wanna-be - and never would be if I had a say in this - first lover with Buffy. I had to be insane. I sighed inwardly. No, I wasn't insane, just head over heels in love with this high school student. I was so far gone, it wasn't even funny anymore.  
  
I was definitely insane.  
  
She scooped another spoon of ice cream and cocked her head. "Honestly? Maybe for a minute. I mean, he was not bad. Kind of lame. But . Willow said he had a nice body, and he was . right. You know, responsible and all. Older, probably experienced." She sighed, and licked a drop of ice cream from the spoon.  
  
I barely kept from pointing out that I was experienced as well. But fortunately I did, because I wasn't sure if it would get me any points in Buffy's book. Apart from the fact that it's bad style to bring up former lovers.  
  
"So," Buffy went on after swallowing, "how was she?"  
  
"Who?" I asked, pretending I didn't get it.  
  
She rolled her eyes, calling my bluff. "The girl. The one who you slept with."  
  
"Older." I winced, "Experienced."  
  
Her eyes narrowed. "How much older?"  
  
"Ten years."  
  
Her eyes rounded, "Wow."  
  
I wasn't sure it was awe I heard in her voice. "Yeah."  
  
"How did you meet?"  
  
I kept my voice emotionless. "My father brought us together."  
  
For a moment she was silent. I even wondered if I had rendered her speechless, but then she almost shouted, "What? Your father ."  
  
I nodded, the memory like a brick of ice in my chest. Talk about fatherly love. "He hired a prostitute. She seduced me. It was his birthday present. He wanted to make sure I was a real man." It still hurt to think about it. Like every other virgin I had been half way in love with the woman when it was over. Only to find out that it had been my father's doing all along.  
  
"But . why?" She was still stunned, the concept obviously completely foreign to her. Thank God.  
  
"I told you, girls usually came on to me. But I wasn't particularly interested. My father was afraid I might be gay, so he made sure I was properly introduced to the joys of female company." When she didn't say anything, I said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't-"  
  
"No," she interrupted me. "Don't be. I'm glad you trusted me enough to tell me." Her eyes were very gentle, very understanding, and so beautiful it hurt.  
  
Greg once told me that love, when it happened, was the most beautiful thing in the world. I didn't believe him. But now I do. What the bastard never told me, however, was that it hurts like hell, too.  
  
I had to draw a sharp breath to keep my emotions in check. "It's . uh . okay." I cleared my throat, "Anyway. Greg was there for me - again. He and my father got into a big fight because of what happened."  
  
She took a sip from the coke she had ordered with the ice cream. "You gonna tell me again what a great guy he is?" Her eyes were a little weary and I decided to back off a little.  
  
"No," I shook my head and smiled at her. "I'll rest my case. I told you what I thought you needed to know." And inwardly I cursed Greg for asking me for this favor.  
  
It had seemed so innocent, his request to talk to Joyce's older daughter, apart from the fact that she was gorgeous, I had the hots for her, and the prospect of spending some time with her in a place far away from home looked promising. My ego was big enough to make myself believe that I could make her fall for me. I also had noticed the looks she gave me when she came out of her school. There was a spark between us and I had every intention to kindle it.  
  
Only, the kindling wasn't going the way I had hoped. Instead she hated me for what I'd done. Okay, so maybe hate was a little too strong. I didn't really think she hated me, but she wasn't harboring the fondest feelings for me right now.  
  
On the other hand, we had kissed and from where I stood she had enjoyed it as much as I.  
  
"So," she asked after another silence. "Are you going to take me home now?"  
  
Even though I didn't really want to end out time together, hoping maybe I could make her see I wasn't a bad guy after all, I also had to accept that she probably needed some time to digest what had happened today. So I nodded and stood, "Okay. Let's go."  
  
She seemed surprised by the fact that I had agreed so easily, but she smiled nevertheless and followed me out of the diner. "Can I drive?"  
  
I eyed her warily, "You promise not to wreck my car?"  
  
She laughed. "I managed to get us here in one piece, right?"  
  
"Yeah," I agreed. "But that was before you knew why we came."  
  
She stopped and tilted her head, making her blond hair fall to one side and giving me a nice look at her slender neck. I had to keep myself from licking my lips, but I still saw images in front of my inner eye if myself licking said neck, nipping it, caressing it with little love bites.  
  
I felt my groin tighten and quickly shut down my own private fantasy. It wasn't going to help if she became aware that I was sporting a raging hard on in bright daylight. She was only eighteen after all.  
  
After a moment we walked on and reached the car that was standing at the far end of the parking space. "Okay," I said when we came to stand at the driver's door. "You can drive." I dangled the keys in front of her face and she snatched it from my hand and grinned.  
  
"Thanks," she said and leaned back against the door. Closing her eyes she sighed, "I don't want this day to end." Her voice sounded sexy and I sucked in a sharp breath.  
  
Huh? Had I missed something? How had she suddenly gone from being pissed to temptress? But hey, who was I to deny her anything. Especially if it meant she had stopped hating me. Looking down at her upturned face, I took a step towards her. "I don't want it to, either," I said and kissed her.  
  
Instantly she pressed herself against me and opened her mouth underneath mine and touched my lips with her tongue. God, it was a turn on! I heard a groan and realized it was my own, while my arms seemed to tighten around her on their own account, pulling her even closer to me. Her mouth tasted wonderful, the lingering aroma of the ice cream still on them, and they were moist and warm and soft, just the way they'd been before.  
  
Her hands came around my body and moved upwards, caressing my shoulder blades, while one of her legs pressed between mine, as if she was trying to get closer, even closer, to me.  
  
I heard myself groan again, "God, Buffy-"  
  
She pulled my head down, pulled my lips to her and kissed me again. For about half a second I wondered if I'd gone insane, this was broad daylight, and we were standing in the middle of a public parking space, but when she nearly crushed my mouth with hers, I didn't care anymore who might see or not see us, instead I started kissing her chin, her neck, wanting to taste every part of her.  
  
I closed my eyes when she returned those kisses, her soft lips stroking the skin of my cheeks, my chin, then fluttering over my Adam's apple. I sighed deeply, losing myself in the sensations and .  
  
Nothing.  
  
Suddenly she was gone. My arms were empty, but I needed a moment to come down from the high I'd just flown to, and when I opened my eyes she grinned at me through the open window of my car. It was running already, the engine purring as usual.  
  
I stared at her, "Wh-what?" What the hell was going on? Shaking my head to clear the daze my mind still seemed in, I started to walk around the car, but before I had a chance the car started to roll.  
  
"Sorry, Angel," she said, her grin even wider than before. "Hope you'll find someone to take you back," she shouted, and floored the gas pedal.  
  
to be continued . 


	4. Chapter 4a

I am so sorry this took me so long. I hope you can forgive me! But I lost the whole first draft of Chapter 4 because my computer went crazy a few weeks ago and so I had to write it anew. This is the first part of Part 4. Enjoy and take it for a Christmas treat. Have a great day.  
  
FIC: The Driving Lesson (4a/4)  
  
Author: Jill Disclaimer: nope, not mine, never will be; if I could I'd claim Angel though *g* Rating: R Pairing: B/A Category: Angst, Romance, Drama - all the good stuff Feedback: oh yes, please send it to Connemara.Scarlets@t-online.de Spoilers: none really, this is complete AU  
  
My most humble thanks go to my beta-readers, Jade, Kay and Kristen. You rock girls!!!  
  
I got the idea for this fic by - go figure - a Slash-story. It's called "Sleep While I Drive" by Jenn ( - the story is Clex (Smallville), just to warn you. If you are a fan of Clex - read it now. It's phenomenal.)  
  
The first thing I did was call Willow (thank God I still had Angel's cell). As soon as she heard my voice, she began to babble like crazy and I did my best to calm her down. When she finally stopped talking, I told her that I was already on my way home, and there was no need for Xander to pick me up. She was relieved because even though she'd tried her best, she hadn't managed to get a hold of him. I assured her that I was fine and that I'd call her as soon as I got home.  
  
That done, I shoved the phone in my pocket, and concentrated on the road ahead of me. There was no traffic and the car went like a dream. I paid special attention to the speed limit. No way I wanted to end up in jail for driving without a license. My mother would have a fit, and probably ground me for the rest of my natural life, despite the fact that I was legally an adult. And I could just see Greg giving me that 'look' he seemed to have down pat.  
  
Shit!  
  
There I go again. Greg. Why the hell did everything always have to end up about him? It was Angel's fault. Simple as that, for forcing me to see the guy as a person, a caring brother, instead of an intruder into our not-so- happy home. The problem was, I hadn't lied to Angel. I didn't hate Greg. Not really. Not at all, actually. I just couldn't wrap my mind around the idea of my Mom with another man.  
  
True, she'd been dating since the split, but none of them ever stuck around long. It was all very casual. They went out for dinner, one or two even spent the night, and even though the thought of what happened behind her bedroom door made me want to lose my breakfast, I could live with that. Some of them were even nice, like Henry, the divorced lawyer from New York who'd been in town for a prolonged weekend. Liking Henry was never a problem because I knew he would leave eventually.  
  
But then Greg turned up. Greg Henderson, with his charming smile, kind, warm eyes and perfect manners that attracted Mom like no one else before him. And I hated him. Not hated, hated, but still. Because I knew in my heart that he wouldn't leave after a few weeks. No, I saw the way Mom looked at him, and worse, I saw the way he looked at her. All my alarm bells were ringing. Dawn, the unfaithful little sister, had a crush on him. At first. But when she also figured out that Greg wasn't going away anytime soon, she went into full defense mode, which gave me an unexpected ally, and Mom a whole new set of troubles.  
  
Both the Summers daughters disliked her new man with a passion.  
  
Looking back, I realize that we behaved like shit. We did everything we could to make her life a living hell. We refused to have dinner with Greg in the house. We came up with all sorts of excuses to not be home when he was there. We were brats to the max. Pure and simple. We were the daughters from hell, and somehow my Mom still tried to get us to at least accept the man she'd fallen for.  
  
God - I can't believe we behaved like such total monsters.  
  
And she still loved us. The way a MOM is supposed to. She never wavered, not once.  
  
I thought of Angel and what he had said about my mother needing to be happy, and that she would be willing to sacrifice her happiness for us, if we asked her to. He was right. She probably would. She'd send Greg away if we insisted. And still be alone when Dawn and I are long gone, leading our own lives.  
  
I frowned to myself and for the first time wondered if I really had the right to force her into making that kind of decision. Was I really that spoiled? Or was I merely afraid of losing my one, remaining parent, of having another parent reject Dawn and me and turn to someone else? Damn, if I just knew what to do.  
  
The strange noises and the fumes coming from underneath the hood, however, interrupted my musing like nothing else could have.  
  
"Shit!" I exclaimed, then clapped a hand over my mouth only to remember that Mom wasn't around to yell at me about my language. "What in hell is wrong with you?" I asked the car, drumming my fingers against the steering wheel.  
  
I decided that stopping was the right thing to do and when I spotted a picnic area about hundred yards ahead I pulled in and killed the engine. It went out with a little, weird sputtering noise that didn't sound very healthy at all. Not that I knew the first thing about cars, mind, but I had enough common sense to know that weird, sputtering noises were not supposed to come from the engine.  
  
"Okay," I said, taking a deep breath. "Maybe I should take a look. Now, how do I open the damn thing?"  
  
I looked around for some kind of operating instructions, but then I remembered the whole classic thing, which probably meant the car was old and didn't come with operating instructions. Unfortunately the highway wasn't busy either. I'd only seen one car since I'd left Angel at the diner.  
  
Angel!  
  
For the first time I thought about him and the fact that I'd left him stranded in the middle of nowhere. Well, not quite nowhere. There were other people, and cars, and a public phone, since I'd also taken his cell, so he'll find a way back. I think. I hoped. Oh, God, I really, really hoped. Even though I was still really angry with him for meddling and betraying me, I didn't want him to be lost. But then, people like Angel didn't get lost. By now he'd probably found some bimbo who'd offered him a ride. I ignored the painful squeeze I felt around my heart at that thought.  
  
Besides, why should I care whether a bimbo picked him up? He wasn't anything to me anyway. Just some very, very good looking, very hot, very sexy, very . shit. And he could even be nice sometimes. Very, very nice actually. I thought about his lips and the softness of his mouth and his skin, and I wanted to turn the car around, race back to the diner at the speed of light, and pick him up, even if I had to tear him from the claws of some bosomy blonde.  
  
Okay, so yes, he'd deceived me and lied to me, but it was all for a good cause, right? If I thought about it, he'd done it out of love, and how can you be angry with someone who did things out of love? I'd done things I wasn't really proud of in the name of love. Behaving badly towards Greg, not allowing my Mom to find some happiness that was hers alone. Compared to that, Angel's actions were pretty tame.  
  
The problem was, however, that it wasn't just Angel who was stranded now. I was stranded, too. Well, kind of anyway. I was sitting in a car that made strange, weird noises. Noises even I recognized as not being of the good, and I had the feeling that Angel would not be so fast at forgiving me if I ruined his car. After all, it was a classic! Obviously well looked after.  
  
Since it didn't look as if help was coming any time soon, and I knew absolutely no one I could call for help, I started to look around in the car. Maybe I'd find something, anything, that could give me a clue about to what to do. I was so busy rummaging around that I didn't hear the car pulling in behind me, and I was somewhere underneath the steering wheel when I heard a voice.  
  
"I wonder if she's looking for the Easter bunny down there?"  
  
A man's voice. A very familiar man's voice.  
  
"Greg? Ouch!" I hissed when I hit the back of my head on the wheel. "What on earth are you doing here?" I looked up, right into Greg's eyes. And then a sudden, truly horrible thought hit me, "Please don't tell me you have Mom with you?" I'd be completely humiliated, and probably grounded for weeks, if not years. True, I was eighteen, but the whole concept of having a grown-up daughter hasn't yet reached my mother. For her I'm her little Buffy - and I still will be "her little Buffy" even when I'm a mother myself.  
  
"No, I didn't bring Joyce," he said, smiling slightly as he turned to look at someone behind him.  
  
Not my mother. Thank God. I managed to smile back at him.  
  
"No, he didn't bring your mother. He came to pick me up."  
  
Angel.  
  
I wanted to hide. No. Better yet, I wanted to die. Now. Immediately. On the spot. Or maybe the earth would open up and swallow me. But no, the earth never does that when you really need it to. Never did. Whenever I totally humiliate myself it always manages to stay nice and calm.  
  
Slowly crawling from underneath the steering wheel, I gave the man I'd deserted at the diner the brightest smile I could muster. "Oh, hi, Angel. What a surprise to see you here."  
  
"Yeah," he replied, slowly coming closer to the car. "What a surprise."  
  
"How . uh . I mean, how did you two meet?"  
  
Angel gave me a funny look, as if he was wondering if I'd suddenly gone insane since I'd left him standing in the parking lot, before he said, "We're brothers, Buffy. You know that."  
  
"Oh!" I laughed, it sounded a little hysterical - actually, it sounded a lot hysterical - like I'd just escaped from the mental hospital - and cleared my throat. "Uh .ah . Yes, I know. What I meant ... ah . was . I mean, how did Greg know where you were?"  
  
That funny look again. "I called him?"  
  
"Right." Another laugh bubbled up. God, maybe the earth would open up and swallow me after all? "A telephone. A public telephone I guess."  
  
"Yes," Angel said slowly, exchanging a look with his brother. "Did you hit your head hard, Buffy?"  
  
"What?" What was he talking about. Oh, right, I'd hit my head. I rubbed the slightly sore spot, "No. It's okay. I'm fine. I'm just .," I flooded bright red, "so terribly sorry I left you there. I behaved like a total spoiled brat. Again."  
  
"Actually, I think you did fine, given the circumstances." That from Greg, who shot his brother a nasty look. "I knew you wanted to help. But did you actually think kidnapping her would do the trick? She can be extremely stubborn."  
  
"I am not stubborn!" I can be a little thick headed sometimes, but stubborn was exaggerating things, certainly.  
  
"Believe me. She's just like her mother."  
  
"Hey, you're supposed to love my Mom. You should defend her." I sounded outraged - and I was. It was my Mom the man was talking about. The woman he insisted he was in love with.  
  
"Oh, I love her, don't worry," Greg said, laughing a bit. "Her stubbornness is just one of her finer qualities."  
  
"You stole my car," Angel said, his eyes hard. "I could have you arrested."  
  
Right. I had almost forgotten that he was a cop. "Arrest me?" I squeaked. Yes, I actually squeaked. And believe me, it was embarrassing. I never squeak. Never. But the idea of being arrested - by Angel of all people - did it for me. On the other hand, being arrested by Angel could be kind of fun .  
  
Quickly suppressing thoughts that I had absolutely no right to be thinking at that moment -- after all, I *had* stolen his car, I gave him another 100 watt smile. "You wouldn't really do that, would you? I'm not a bad person. Actually I'm usually very nice. Really. And I didn't steal your car. I had every intention of returning it when I got home."  
  
"And why aren't you?" he asked.  
  
Huh? "What?"  
  
"Why aren't you home?"  
  
Time to confess. "Ah . the car kind of made funny noises." I winced, when I saw Angel immediately go pale.  
  
"What did you do to my car?" he demanded, anxiously looking it over. "What happened?"  
  
"There was . a smell . and . ah . fumes."  
  
"Fumes and a smell?" he sounded as if I'd just run over his favorite puppy. "Do you realize that I restored this car all by myself."  
  
Greg cleared his throat loudly.  
  
".with a little help from relatives," Angel admitted. "But it took a lot of time and a heap of money to get it back on the road."  
  
"As you can see, he's a little protective when it comes to his car," Greg told me with a grin. It was a nice grin, and for the first time I found myself liking him. I mean really liking him. Right at that moment I didn't care if he was my mother's lover - even though just the thought of that made me shudder - or even my future step-daddy. He was just a nice man.  
  
Who surely would protect me from Angel's wrath.  
  
"So, Greg," I said, my smile spreading. "It was quite a surprise to find out that you and Angel were brothers."  
  
"Yeah. I can guess." He grinned and looked at his brother who'd disappeared under the hood. "Buffy, listen," he turned back to me. "I'm really sorry about this . whole thing. I'm sorry he kidnapped you."  
  
"I didn't kidnap her," came the muffled protest from under the hood.  
  
". but his car isn't the only thing he tends to get protective about." I heard the warmth in his voice, the love he felt for his brother, and for a moment I truly envied them. Greg and Angel. Dawn and I are never like this, and probably never will be. I'm not sure why. It isn't like I hate my sister. But she can be such an annoying brat sometimes that it's really hard to feel any sisterly love. My Mom says it's just her age, that I'd behaved just like Dawn when I was fourteen.  
  
I strongly deny that! I was never like Dawn.  
  
"Tell him I didn't kidnap you!" Angel came up from under the hood and glared first at his brother than at me. "I'm a cop. I don't kidnap people. I rescue them."  
  
I sighed. Maybe it was time for another admission. "No, he didn't really kidnap me. I went willingly."  
  
"I thought so," Greg replied, grinning. He was enjoying the whole situation.  
  
"Are you laughing at us?" I demanded, narrowing my eyes.  
  
"No," he said, biting his lower lip. "I wouldn't dare."  
  
"He laughed himself silly," Angel bit out, "when I told him what had happened. He said it was just like me to get dumped by a beautiful girl in the middle of nowhere."  
  
"I never dumped a guy before," I confessed. Then his words sank in, and I stared at Greg, wide-eyed, "Do you really think I'm beautiful?"  
  
"You are your mother's daughter," Greg replied, smiling warmly.  
  
And I melted. Melted. Yeah, I know, another embarrassing moment. But I did. I swear. I felt like hot fudge. "Wow," I breathed.  
  
"Don't listen to him. He's always been a charmer," Angel snapped.  
  
Was that jealousy in his voice? Hmmm. "Didn't you just spend hours trying to convince me that he was the best man my mother could get?"  
  
"You said that?" Now it was Greg's turn to stare - at his brother. "You actually said that?"  
  
"Yeah, so?"  
  
"Thanks, little brother."  
  
"You're welcome."  
  
By then I was beginning to feel a little left out. "Hey, guys."  
  
"What?"  
  
"What? You want to know what you did to my car?" Another glare - this time at me. Oh boy.  
  
"Is it bad?"  
  
He sighed, "Bad enough. But it'll survive."  
  
I tried for my best smile, "Great."  
  
"But you're still gonna pay for the repairs."  
  
I nodded vigorously, "Sure. Don't worry. My Dad gave me a lot of money for Christmas last year."  
  
"You'd actually let a girl pay for repairing your car?" Greg stared at his brother, "With money she got from her dad?"  
  
"Stop playing the guilt card," Angel snapped. "It's all her fault. She pays. Nobody told her to steal my car."  
  
"Angel-"  
  
"No," I interrupted. "He's right. I should be the one to pay. And it's not as if I care about the money. Besides, Dad has more than enough."  
  
to be continued . 


	5. Chapter 4b

The Driving Lesson  
Author: Jill  
Disclaimer: not mine, never will be

Author's Note: It's still not finished, and it's been ages, but these are the first 4 1/2 pages of the last part. Better than nothing, right? Enjoy!

Part 4b/I – finally

After my initial bout of freaking out, the ride home hadn't been all that bad. It'd been kinda nice, watching Greg and Angel interact with each other, and I discovered for a fact that even though Greg was nice and attractive, Angel was still the better looking of the brothers. Without a doubt. Of course, the fact that he'd stopped glaring at me every other minute was nice, too. Geez – what is it about men and their cars? It's like some secret love affair, women are never let in on.

It was about five minutes from my house, when I realized Greg was looking at me through the rear mirror. "I'm not sure what we're going to tell your Mom."

My mom. Oh, right, Mom! As in the woman who gave birth to me. Mom. "Does she have to know?" I could just imagine her totally freaking out about her little daughter getting into a car with a guy she barely knew. SO not what I wanted to face any time soon. Besides, Angel wasn't just some guy, he was the brother of my future step-dad, after all. Hey, and I didn't wince at the thought – or at least just a little. That had to mean I was actually making progress, right?

I saw Greg exchange a look with Angel before he cleared his throat. "I don't feel right about lying to your mother," he announced.

And really, I should've felt good about it. I mean, this was Greg, my mother's boyfriend. It should make me happy that he was such a honest guy, but right now I would've preferred for him to be a lying, cheating bastard.

"Not saying anything wouldn't be really lying." That from Angel who hadn't said a single word since road service had taken his car with them (he insisted pulling it home would damage the engine) and his brooding because of some stupid vehicle would have started to get on my nerves if not for the fact that he looked really good, all dark and mysterious.

"Besides, Mom won't be at home, yet. She said she was busy at the gallery, and then she mentioned something about a date."

At that, Greg paled. "Shit. Sorry, Buffy. Oh man, I almost forgot about the date." He gave Angel a desperate look and the way he said it, I would've had to be dense not to notice what it meant. Of course, I already knew what the whole thing was about after Mom let the bomb drop a few hours ago. Strangely enough, I didn't freak out this time.

When we reached our house, Greg turned off the engine and turned to look at me properly. "Okay, I'm not going to tell Joyce. But I'm not going to lie either. If she asks me, I'll tell her the truth."

"Alright." I could live with that. Thank God, my mother was the most oblivious person on this planet. Which meant unless you did things right underneath her nose, she usually didn't have a clue what was going on.

Greg sighed, obviously not really happy with his decision. I couldn't care less. If he was going to marry my mother, he had to learn what it meant to be part of the Summers-family. "Fine. You two need to get out of the car now. Damn, I can't believe I almost forgot … I need to get ready for later. I promised Joyce to pick her up at the gallery … holy … in an hour." I almost felt sorry for him, he looked so freaked out. And really, it was kind of sweet. If it weren't my mother he was dating, of course.

Angel and I climbed out of the car and I even managed a wave when Greg drove away, just barely keeping to the speed limit in our street. Boy, the guy really had it bad for my mother, and I was SO not thinking about that right now. On the downside it left me with nothing to do but focussing my attention on the man next to me, and a slight cough from my side reminded me that Angel hadn't conveniently suffered from memory loss either.

"Ahm … uhm …" Wow, and if that didn't sound as if I was reverting back into pre-speech age. Damn.

"I really need to-" Angel started, but I suddenly didn't want him leave. So, okay, yes, we weren't on the best of terms right now. I had stolen his car, but he had kidnapped me in the first place – alright, lured me into going with him under false pretences – kind of, at least. But that didn't mean I wasn't still madly attracted to him and didn't want him to leave like that, all grumpy and probably cursing me to hell and back.

"NO!" I felt my face go crimson, but forced my embarrassment down at my outburst. When I finally managed to look at him, I saw him smiling slightly. "What?" I snapped. Why on earth did he always have to look so cool and in charge? Didn't anything rattle the man?

"I thought after what happened you would be glad to see me gone," he said, his eyes very dark, and very intense. I felt my knees go weak. Boy. What on earth was God thinking when he made Angel? Hey, maybe God really is a woman!

"Well, ah …" I took a deep breath, no day like today Summers. "No," I repeated. "How about a cup of coffee?"

"Coffee?" he asked stupidly.

"Yeah, coffee," I snapped. "Or are you one of those macho-men who think only the guy can offer something?" God, he looked good. And now I even knew how good he felt and … geez … tasted. I licked my lips, hoping he didn't have clue what was going on in my head. I could just imagine his smirk, should he ever find out.

He shook his head slowly, smiling ever so slightly. "No, I'm not. But after what happened today, I was expecting you to slam the door in my face." His eyes crinkled at the corners, "Not that I could really blame you."

"Ah." A little surprised at his attitude, I wasn't quite sure what to say, so I simply walked towards the house, hoping he would get the hint and follow me. I fumbled with the key, feeling a little distracted by him standing right behind me, but finally the door opened and we stepped inside. But before I could take a deep breath, I was greeted by

"Where have you been?"

I rolled my eyes, forgetting Angel for a moment, and focussing on my annoying sister. "That's none of your business." 

Her eyes widened as soon as they fell on the man behind me. "Who are you?" she asked in her usual tactless manner.

"That's none of your business either," I said sternly. "And now, get gone."

Of course, Dawn being Dawn, she simply ignored me as always. "You look nice," she told Angel, who seemed a little flustered by her frank attitude. "Not like the other guys she usually goes out with."

"Ah … thanks," he managed. "You … uhm … too."

Seemed as if he didn't have a lot of experience with teenage sisters. And what was the crack about my other … guys? I fixed my most intimidating glare on her. "What does that mean? Riley was nice."

Totally incredulous, as if I'd just told her our mayor was a giant snake, Dawn rolled her eyes, "Oh, please! The guy was in serious need of a haircut. And all that grease. Did you have to, like, wash your hands all the time?"

She had a point there. Not that I was ever going to admit it, but Riley's hair had been kind of greasy. But he'd been nice – in a farmboy-sort-of-way – which hadn't done him any good, as I was a little preoccupied all the time, thanks to a certain tall, dark, brooding someone who was standing beside me this very moment.

Pointing at the open doorway, I narrowed my eyes at my sister, "Go!"

Another expressive eyeroll. But she was actually moving towards the door now. "Geez! I'm going, I'm going. Maybe you should just take a pill, or something." She turned to Angel and smiled, "Bye."

"Bye," he said, probably wondering what kind of lunatics were living in this house.

"Sorry for that," I apologized, as soon as Dawn was out of the room. "Little sisters and all."

To my surprise he grinned. "No need. I think she's nice. Sassy. My sister is about that age."

"You have a sister?"

"Yeah." His face seemed tense. "She's living with my parents. I haven't seen her in forever."

"That has to be hard." Or not. But I was so not going to say it. A life without an annoying little sister sticking her nose into everything … sounded a little boring, actually. Angel was missing his sister, no doubt. "So," I took a deep breath. Enough of little sisters. Back to us for a change. "You want that coffee now?" I walked towards the kitchen and felt him following me. Yes, felt. Believe me if I tell you it was the strangest thing. I didn't hear him, he was moving so quietly, but I still felt him. It should have been creepy, but it wasn't.

"Nice house," he remarked, and I had to suck in my breath when I turned around finding him standing in the kitchen doorway, leaning casually with one shoulder. The sun was directly on him, emphasising his muscular legs in those leather pants.

OH BOY!

I quickly turned back to the coffee maker, desperately trying to forget the way he looked like.

Of course, it was no use.

My heart was beating like a jackhammer, my stomach flip-flopping like crazy, and I just knew my face had turned tomato red again. My ears probably, too. God, it was embarrassing. And what was that question again? … Something about the house?

"Oh, ah …" Thank God my mind hadn't left for la-la land completely. "It's okay, I guess. We lived in a bigger one when my parents were still together."

"Must have been hard."

Hard. Oh no. No, no thinking about hard. No hardness. "What?" And, geez, could I sound more like a moron, squeaking that way?

I heard him shift behind me. "Having to watch your parents divorce. From what I know it's always the kids who suffer most."

I shrugged. I didn't like talking about my parents' divorce. For various reasons. "It was worse for Dawn. She was too small to understand, and for months blamed herself for what happened."

He was quiet for a while, and I thought he'd let the subject go when he asked, "What about you?"

"Me?"

"You couldn't have been more than a kid."

It was strange. I always hated talking about the divorce. Yet, with Angel here, his voice soft and understanding it seemed suddenly a lot easier.

Still, I wasn't quite ready to admit how deep the cut had gone. "I was old enough. At least I understood what was happening."

"Did you?"

That made me angry. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I glared at him over my shoulder, and saw him shrug. "I'm not sure I'll ever be able to understand why two people who love each other, make kids, make a commitment, can't stick to it. I mean, I'm not all that old-"

And boy was he right. 

"- but I can't see myself giving up my kids. From what Greg told me, your Dad isn't around all that much."

I laughed and was shocked how hollow and hurt it sounded. Damn. Not quite over the whole thing, huh, Summers? "You can say that again," I managed to choke out. "These days he prefers to be around stacked blondes with an IQ barely reaching their age, which, let me tell you, isn't all that far above mine."

I had to blink, surprised to find my eyes wet. Wasn't I the cool older sister who usually could dismiss all and any talk about Hank Summers with a shrug and a snide remark? It were those moments when Dawn looked at me with absolute wonder and admiration. Probably because she still cries in her pillow most nights. I know the dampness on mine is drool only. 

"I'm sorry."

Surprised, I looked at him over my shoulder. He really was. Sorry, that is. At least he looked sorry. 

I turned back to the coffee maker. "Thanks," I said, glad I wasn't choking on the word. My throat felt tight and there was something funny going on in my chest. Like the slightest flutter just where my heart was supposed to be.

And then I almost jumped out of my skin when his arms suddenly came around me from behind – I did tell you, he was moving like a big cat, right – and held. For a moment I wanted to protest, wanted to wriggle out of his embrace, even be angry at him for stepping into my personal space, but it only lasted a fraction of a second. Then I felt something inside of me give way and I sagged against him, letting his warmth surround me, his strength support me. Strangely enough there was nothing awkward in it. It felt normal, and I felt myself reminded of those times my father had held me when I was still a little child. I felt safe in a way I hadn't for a very long time.

"That's it," I heard him whisper gently, his large palm moving up and down my back. "Let it go. You don't have to be strong all the time."

My answering laugh was more like a snort. "I wish."

"Buffy, my dad's an asshole, too. It's not our fault we drew loser parents." He paused for a moment, "Okay, one loser parent in your case. I mean, I haven't actually met you Mom, but Greg's a pretty decent guy and the fact he's in love with her says a lot."

How did he do it? I wondered. How could he make me feel better just by touching me and finding the right words. I thought about his father who'd treated Greg in a way no parent should. Compared to him, my father suddenly seemed like Father of the Year. Well, maybe not quite, but if I could forget all the years of neglecting, I had also all those memories of him taking us to Disney land, of teaching me how to drive a bike, of him catching me and whirling me through the air, laughing me, then buying me the hugest ice-cone ever. Angel probably didn't have those kinds of memories.

The hissing of the coffee maker saved me from saying anything. He let me go, albeit reluctantly, and took a step back. I had an incredible feeling of loss. I had to clear my throat before I was able to say, "How do you take it?"

"What?" His voice was hoarse.

"The coffee," I said, without looking at him. "Milk, Sugar?"

"Black with sugar. Two spoons."

Now I did turn, and raised a brow. "Two spoons? Do you run? Work out?"

He blinked. "Huh?"

I let my eyes travel over the length of his body – and boy, was that a mistake because instantly my heart started to beat triple time again – then quickly turned back to the coffee. "I mean," I gestured with the spoon in my hand, "you're not fat or something." There wasn't a gram of it on him. He wasn't thin, either. Big, as in lots of muscles, broad shoulders, but no fat. Nuh-huh. I had my hands on him only a few hours ago. I knew.

"Good metabolism," he replied. "I go to the gym if I have time, but never more than once a week."

"Not fair," I complained, adding two spoons of sugar to his cup. I heard him chuckle behind me, and felt instantly irritated. "What?"

"It's not as if you are fat. If anything ,you could do with a few pounds."

"Oh, thanks so much!" I snapped at him. "Do you realize what it costs me to withstand all that chocolate they throw at us all the time?"

Again that chuckle. And then, his voice like a cat's purr, "Maybe you should give in to temptation from time to time."

Boy! Did I say my heart beat triple time? It was beating like a sledge hammer now.

to be continued …

So, what do you think? Is this still worth continuing? Or did I lose all my inspiration for B/A?


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